TEST DRIVE MEME #3

[sailmods]

1. you're the only one you owe (GUEST STARRING: selenokinesis and creepyoldguy)

[you wake up.

it doesn't matter where you were before. going to bed? dying? opening the door to face a great evil? same result. you wake up in a soft bed with starched sheets in a cool, darkened room, sunlight peeking out from behind thick curtains. maybe you're alone; maybe you aren't. maybe you immediately notice the folded paper on the bedside table near your head. if you don't, you better fix that real quick: you won't be able to even open the door before you read it.

the note itself is written in a neat hand on white card stock; there is a stylized logo of a ship with the words SERENA ETERNA printed underneath. the note reads as follows:

Dear Passengers(s),

You'll be unable to leave your cabin until you read this note. Congratulations on making it past the first step. Keep reading if you wish, as I have information to share with you, as a fellow passenger stuck aboard this ship. Or don't continue reading, and burn the note. I'm not particularly invested either way, especially if you choose to throw away valuable warnings.

Watch out for the Captain.

Be cautious what you sign up for.

If you die, you'll come back to life eventually, though I would recommend you try not to die.

Your life is the Captain's plaything.

Do not think for one moment that someone isn't watching you.

With that aside, I am now contractually obligated to tell you the following: You will find a life jacket within your cabin's closet, and you are required to bring it with you to your assigned muster station on deck one. A companion and I will take you through the drill. If you cannot find us, look for a tall male with white hair and blue eyes and a friendly-looking man with unkept brown hair and a winning smile.

Respectfully,
Moon Master Ebalon

you walk to deck one. you have no other choice: every time you try to step in a direction some unseen being considers "not towards deck one," you find your legs no longer move, staying stock still, frozen. whether compelled quickly by curiosity, or delayed by pure stubbornness, the result is the same, and you are left milling around with other similarly curious or stubborn people.

you see two people standing at the front of the crowd: an exhausted-looking man with white hair who seems rather displeased that he's been roped into this, and a man with a wide grin, bright green tips on his hair, and amber eyes. the latter is waving cheerfully, having an armful of leis. he quite happily puts them around people’s necks and while they’re distracted, attempts to dip them into a kiss.

as he’s basically a walking corpse, and smells like one to boot, it’s not exactly hitting the jackpot. but, he does at least listen to the word “NO”.

the tired-seeming man ignores this and announces over the drone of chattering passengers like yourself,]

Welcome to the Serena Eterna. Do try to enjoy your stay here; it is rather permanent in nature, huhu.

[and from next to his companion, the… er, overly-affectionate man who sounds as though he smokes ten packs a day rasps,]

You’re all doomed!

[you touch the lei. rooster feathers, lotus seeds, and a carved circle of something white and hard, linked onto a silk string.

after the duo complete the drill, you'll find that your legs suddenly obey your command, for what that's worth.

welcome aboard, passenger. we hope you enjoy your stay.]

2. one by one they'll do you in

[it starts, as most things do, with a table lamp. floating down a hallway, or the length of the promenade. ambling at a distinct clip: one-two-three-KICK, one-two-three-KICK.

and that's... not immediately concerning. after all, things float around here all the time; usually plates and drinks, but maybe the shades want to mix it up a bit. the lamp is alone for about a half hour before it is joined by others. a pillow. some knickknack from the ship store. Friday's clipboard. an empty vodka bottle. all have lined up, one in front of the other, and lead a procession snaking around the ship, growing with each passing hour. anyone familiar with the concept would begin to recognize it as a massive conga line.

there is a small chance you will want to join of your own free will. most likely, you will not want that. this does not matter: something compels you, like pins and needles in your feet, to join the dance. and once you have joined in... your body fights your mind on the subject, even as it grows more and more tired.

you pass by a familiar face. they could help pull you out. or you could pull them in.]

3. the price of vice foretold

[the scent of citrus and coconut rum hangs heavy in the air. there is a new storefront on the promenade, tucked between Sand Dollars and John's in a place where you are very certain there was not enough space to tuck a store before.

the clothes for sale are... a lot. like, a lot a lot. but, there are quite a lot of choices, though they do seem to repeat a little, once you've gone in far enough. in fact, even if you actively attempt to find it, you can't seem to find the back of the store. you can see a wall, sure, but it never seems to get any closer, even as you walk towards it.

be forewarned: the infinite tommy bahama does not have food or water.]

Comments

[push_that_pesticide]

"That was easy," he jokes, "but it's not like I'm not."

One of the many benefits of going from 1981 to modernity was the sudden availability of people who were willing to legally fall into his bed, and hey, who is he to deny himself the enjoyment of a liason with someone who was interested in him?

With all the sleaze of someone who has never in his life stepped out with a debutante, Bugsy slips an arm around Lucius' waist and follows his lead.

[draughtsman]

Lucius may be just a touch overeager. Just a smidgen. He's not jogging to the room but he certainly isn't moving with his usual dawdling pace, either. He really should text Skulduggery and tell him to get out of the room but, frankly, he'd have to stop and free a hand for that and that's a sacrifice he's just not willing to make.

"So," he says, conversationally, and with a hint of worry as they approach the door. The sound of his question is underscored by the sound of him pulling the handle on the door. "My Boss didn't tell you anything...awful about me, right?"

[push_that_pesticide]

"Nah, said some shit about you being a hard worker and fashionable, all that. Kinda sounded like he was doing a job interview more 'n anything."

Bugsy's not much better on the part of eagerness, pressing up against Lucius as they both enter, such that they're already in a more than slightly compromising position should someone already be in the room.

[light_mischief]

Skulduggery's paranoia has gotten markedly worse since the pirate meeting, unfortunately, driven by the ominously-casual reference the captain had made. He's checked the gauntlets in his drawer every day since getting them and nothing has changed. They're still dead, lifeless things, and while the scratching headache is still there in the back of his head, it's nothing like it used to be.

That's what he's doing right now, actually. Just standing there, staring down at the drawer with an unreadable expression on his face. (Get it...) The paranoia lurches up inside as he hears the doorhandle click, and he kicks the drawer shut just before Lucius can enter and see --

"Holy God," Skulduggery chokes out, literally not expecting the goddamn bug man that's currently attached to Lucius' side like a leech. Like a... mosquito?? He can't tell and tilting his head only really makes it worse, not better --

"Uh." Staring at Lucius, then at the... ...next to him. And he thought Stede and Blackbeard was above his paygrade... Hell, this is out of even Donegan Bane's paygrade. "Sorry. Lucius. You're... alright?"

That can be read as both: is this a consensual situation I don't have to worry about? and also DOES HE KNOW YOU'RE A BUG PERSON?, depending on who you might be.

[draughtsman]

Lucius hears the drawer being kicked shut hurriedly before he sees Skulduggery and he can't quite help the low curse that escapes him. He grins as they enter, Bugsy basically draped over him, and tries to be nonchalant about this. There is no easy way to ask a roommate to vacate so you can fuck, after all, but he can apologize later--

And then Skulduggery is just recoiling and cursing? Um. What?

Excuse?

He stares at Skulduggery with a look that is half reproach and half shock. He never took the skeleton man for judgmental--

"Yes..." Lucius says and cocks a brow. Do you not see the handsome face of this man Skulduggery? This man who is clearly down for a good time. But then, maybe he's misreading--he could have walked in on Skulduggery doing something...private and skeleton-ish? He tones back the expression to one of curiosity and asks: "Is this a bad time?"

[push_that_pesticide]

Bugsy gives the skeleton a reproachful look that's halfway between 'dude you're literally a skeleton, fuck you' and 'what the fuck are you doing outing me like this?'

"Yeah we're fine," Bugsy gives the skeleton a glance over. Changelings looked like many different things but it was... weird that there was such a variety in the one place, where you could get walking skeletons and people who still looked normal. Still, he didn't come here to navel gaze he came here to suck dick, and that's what he intended on doing.

"Thanks in advance, buddy," he offers, trying to scoot him along and get more firmly in the door.

[light_mischief]

Skulduggery tilts his head. Bugsy wouldn't know it, but it's very much a I'm not your buddy, friend, sort of tip. But Lucius... is... fine with this? And Skulduggery is a skeleton, so he's not about to judge...

Hands up, nope, this isn't his problem. "I was just leaving. I -- enjoy yourselves?"

Yep, this is officially the worst thing he's had to deal with so far, except for all the murdering. He's out. Skulduggery flees marches stridently from the room before he has to deal with the new realization that Lucius would, apparently, clean up in certain areas of his reality's Ireland. Lord help him if Springheeled Jack shows up...

[draughtsman]

Lucius is boggled. Nothing in any of his interactions with Skulduggery had ever laid groundwork for that sort of storming out. He clearly missed something and feels a flicker of remorse about it. He will have to text him later--

For right now, though, Lucius has a fully willing man, a room to himself, and a bowl of grapes.

He puts on his best flirty look, not that he really needs to, and leads Bugsy to the nearest bed. His notebook is tossed aside on the mattress and lands open. The pen tumbles off and clatters somewhere. Whatever he can get another. Lucius drops onto the bed, sitting in cute repose, and holds up the bowl of grapes.

"Now what was that about feeding me like a spoiled prince?"